Heart of Darkness (Parts 1-3)
by Eline
Summary: Post GoF Snape-fic. Can be read as a stand alone or as a sequel to "Sacrifice". (Features W.E.R.E.S. and some mayhem.)
1. Part One

Heart of Darkness

By Eline

Sequel to "Sacrifice" but it can be read as a stand-alone.

(PG-13 for character torture and some violence.)

Fear. Surely it was pouring out of his every pore?

Severus Snape followed the man who used to be Peter Pettigrew into the dim, vaulted chamber. He had just apparated here via a Portkey--they did not trust him enough to let him know where this subterranean lair was. Where *Voldemort* was . . .

Fear. This was what he had been waiting for . . .

Pettigrew/Wormtail left him without a word. A minute ticked by. Two minutes . . . Snape knew he was breaking out in cold sweat as the moments trickled by . . .

And then a tall, black-robed figure glided through the doorway like a spectre from the past. So it was true--Voldemort had, in fact, regained his body.

He knew what to do--it was not as though his knees were in any condition to hold him up when raw fear filled him anew. Without prompting, he fell to his knees and crawled forwards.

"Severus, you disappoint me," said that voice from a nightmare, stopping him cold.

And there was pain--like red-hot nails rammed into his belly.

"Master . . ." he gritted out through the pain. "I--"

"Silence." There was more pain and Snape's forehead connected with the stone floor as he convulsed. "I know you for what you are. A pathetic creature of two minds--Dumbledore's double agent and one of my Death Eaters . . . You loathe everyone. You loathe yourself most of all for what you have done and what you did not fulfil. I know of your mission. You know that you're going to die, don't you, Severus?"

Indeed, Snape knew that the game was up--he was a goner. But Voldemort did not move to kill him. Half a second later, Snape wished that he had. Instead of death, there was an awful, racking pain that made him arch and thrash about.

In the long, drawn out moments that followed the torture, his muscles twitched and complained, causing him to shake uncontrollably. A large snake had slithered around Voldemort and seemed to being investigating him.

"Look at you now . . . Catering to a bunch of ungrateful brats. Competing on such a low level. What has happened to your ambition, Severus?"

He did not answer--he dared not answer. He could only draw pained, ragged breaths through his mouth and nose. The snake put its wedge-shaped head closer--until they were practically eye to eye on the floor.

"Ah . . . you have become a pathetic, powerless pawn . . . Torn with your small-minded indecision and doubt." The dark robes advanced closer and the snake swayed aside. "Remember the old days? Remember how you gained the Dark Mark?"

Snape could not help but remember, for the Dark Mark on his left arm was suddenly a fresh, burning brand. He had known this agony before--when it had been placed on his arm . . .

_Their master had announced that his chosen would receive his blessings. Some of them had jumped at it, swearing their loyalty profusely. They had been dead silent after Lestrange had been marked. Lestrange, fanatic that he was, had screamed like an injured banshee when he had received his master's "blessing"._

"Well? Who is next to declare his loyalty?" their master had asked, glaring at each of them in turn.

He had volunteered--made himself go forwards, just to show that he was better than Malfoy and the other toadies. Just to prove to himself that he had truly give himself over to Voldemort's cause and silence the one dissenting voice within.

Voldemort had conjured up his Dark Mark--the skull and the snake--in miniature and then the apparition was on his arm. It had been pure agony--the brand seemed to sear its way into his soul . . .

The spell broke. He was back on the floor again, sweating with remembered fear. The Dark Mark linked them both still--master and servant . . .

"You see? You had so much potential . . ." Voldemort took another step closer and the Dark Mark burned again. "You gave it all up--you chose the other side. So tell me, have you ever regretted it?" The brand flared again, sending a new wave of harsh suffering through him. "Of course you did--you still do. In the darkest hours of the night, when you're sick of the whole world and everyone who has ever wronged you . . . You wished that you had chosen differently. It's quite sad actually . . ."

Snape bore the pain with clenched teeth. He had prepared a cache of lethal cyanide and nightshade capsules in his sleeve pocket for *this* eventuality. When the plan had failed and the pain became too great to bear . . . He knew Voldemort well enough to expect him to make a very vivid example of his death.

The pain stopped as abruptly as it had came. "That was the one thing I liked about you, Severus--you wouldn't plead for mercy. You had some degree of *backbone*, arrogant fool that you were."

Snape opened his eyes cautiously. Voldemort sounded almost calm--as though he was considering something.

"Well . . . I, too, can give *second chances*," Voldemort said and laughed--a noxious, hissing noise he remembered so well. "You will learn the error of your ways, Severus, or die a death I would not give a worm. You will live for now."

Words--life-giving words . . . "T-thank you, master . . ."

"You may come to me as my servant again."

It was terrible, the sheer relief and gratitude he felt as he crawled forwards to kiss his master's robes. Voldemort still knew how to inspire fear and loyalty in his servants. And Snape hated it as much as he hated himself for wanting to fawn like a dog at his master's feet.

"So Dumbledore has directed us to Romania, has he?"

"Yes, Lord," Snape said from the floor. He dared to look up now--the Dark Lord looked pensive as he considered this information.

Voldemort's red eyes flared in the gloom within the shadow of his hood. "It is no doubt a part of Dumbledore's design. Very well, we will play this game . . . to win. Prepare to leave Hogwarts soon, Severus--you will be taking a vacation. Of my choosing of course . . ."

And then the robes swept away, leaving him alone on the cold flagstones.

Shaken to the core, Snape could not rise yet. It had been like a violation of the soul--his inner self flayed open and prodded about mercilessly. His old master had known his every doubt . . .

Feeling older than he had in years, Snape forced himself to stand. He could not show weakness in front of Wormtail. This was not the time for weakness . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Dumbledore looked up from his desk. "Yes, Severus?"

"Headmaster, I need to claim a few days leave."

"Well, you haven't claimed any leave for years, Severus . . . You've got heaps of it accumulating here." 

Of course--he had holed himself up in Hogwarts, a virtual hermit. He had shunned the world that had shunned him. There had been no reason for him to go out--no friends and family to visit, nothing to celebrate.

"You've got heaps of leave owed to you, Severus--go with my blessings," Dumbledore said. His eyes were at odds with his cheerful tone. He *knew*.

"Thank you, Headmaster."

"Severus?"

He stopped and looked back.

"Are you sure you can do this?"

"Yes." He had been prepared for this since the night had had returned to the fold as a double agent. He only wished that he was as confident as he sounded though.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It felt strange to be out in the world again.

He had a broom--but it was seldom used and had fallen into a bit of disrepair. It had taken some time to fix even with Professor Flitwick's help. 

"Well, it's the best I could do," the diminutive Professor had said while they stood outside the school building. "Bon voyage, Severus--enjoy your holiday."

Dumbledore and McGonagall had also appeared to see him off. "Farewell Severus--we'll be expecting you back in a week or so."

_Translation: If you're not back in a week, we'll know that everything's gone down the privy._

He wondered if they would hold a nice funeral for him. They probably wouldn't find much of him--a piece or two here and there perhaps . . .

"Good bye, Severus--you look like you're in need of some fresh air," Minerva McGonagall said. _Was it showing? Did he look like a hunted animal yet?_

He had nodded stiffly and managed to get the broom started without too much fuss.

Now, soaked to the skin and in a thoroughly foul mood, Snape was trying to discern if he was flying over Romania.

"_Lumos_!" Even the light from his wand was dim in the downpour. Now for a charm to direct him down safely . . . His memory did not throw up one that could be performed on a broomstick flying who-knows-how-many-hundred-feet-above-solid-ground, wherever solid ground was at this point (it was probably mud). He was never very good at charms. Could he risk landing on unknown ground?

"Severus!"

There was a light in front of him and it was drawing closer. It was also the source of the voice that was hailing him.

It was Macnair, wrapped in oilskins and bearing a magically powered lantern.

"Severus! You're late!" His tired mind picked up on the fact that Macnair was not, oddly enough, on a broomstick.

His temper, not at its best even without the three hours spent flying on a broomstick through a storm, snapped. "Late? Of course, I'm *late*! I can't even see where I'm going in this confounded storm!"

"Well follow me! We're only about fifty feet above ground--if you'd gone on any further, you'd be stuck in the forest!" *That* explained why Macnair was levitating instead of using a broomstick.

Fuming silently, Snape followed Macnair's lantern down. There was some building down there--an isolated farmstead as it turned out. 

It was not empty--there had been spells placed on it toward off Muggles.

The Death Eaters were gathered there. Heads turned as he entered. Avery, Crabbe, Goyle and Malfoy and a number of those he did not recognise. 

_Ah, so it was to be a reunion . . ._

He knew he looked a state, of course, drenched and bedraggled. The broom was on its last legs--or bristles--and looked like it had just been used for cleaning drains. Lucius Malfoy was looking at him condescendingly. 

If Malfoy had said one jeering word, just *one* word . . . Snape would have administered the broomstick to him--right in the face. But perhaps Malfoy had seen the murderous look in his eyes, because he kept silent as Snape stamped in.

"Thought you'd never make it," Crabbe said. "We figured you left for good . . ."

Snape did not want to waste his breath on the obvious--you couldn't disobey when Voldemort commanded you personally. Not unless you were suicidal or extremely stupid.

"Who are they?" he asked, gesturing at the strangers.

"New recruits," Goyle grunted.

"They're here for their test," Avery chipped in. "Green and wet as grass in the morning, that lot. We've got to weed out the chaff, the master says."

New Death Eaters . . . Well, all Voldemort's supporters called themselves that, but everyone knew that they weren't truly Death Eaters until the Dark Lord had confirmed it and marked you personally. Snape had been amongst the first group to be so marked--the true elite. This motley assortment of wizards and witches looked young and eager to prove their worth as Death Eaters--far too young to be starting on this road . . . 

Snape knew a pang as he remembered that he had been younger still when he had been marked.

There was a faint pop and someone apparated into the room.

It was Wormtail. "Put your masks on now--we will be meeting the others soon."

The mask . . . Snape had not burned it even after all these years. It felt strange, to be putting it on again. In this mask, he had committed atrocities he had never wanted to remember. Just pulling it out of its hiding place yesterday had awoken some of those dreadful memories . . .

He gritted his teeth and drew the black mask over his face. Everyone else did so too, including the newcomers--though their enthusiasm was particularly galling. They would not be so eager after tonight, unless they were the kind of Death Eaters Barty Crouch and the Lestranges had been. Now *that* was a frightening though--even more fanatics who weren't afraid to die for Voldemort.

Soon afterwards, there were other masked and hooded wizards and witches filing in. It was an old trick to ensure that no one truly knew the identities of all the Death Eaters. Snape suspected that these were Death Eaters from other countries and locals--Voldemort had been widening his power base across the world fourteen years ago, there no reason why he was not continuing to do so now.

"Will the master be here?" one of the newcomers asked--he had to be new, no senior members ever asked anything about the Dark Lord if they could help it.

"He will not be here," Wormtail said coldly. "The Dark Lord says we have a lot to prove--all of you. You will be split into groups under the supervision of the senior leaders. Tonight, we hunt a failed Death Eater and those who would shelter him. Magic usage was spotted not far away from here--there are likely to be many enemy wizards out there. It is likely that they are expecting us to come, but we know they're out there. Remember that failure is not an option."

They all knew what *that* meant.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

There was, Snape reflected, a certain irony in this whole mission. Sixteen years ago, the youth he had been could only dream of leading his own troop of Death Eaters. Now he had been issued with his own cadre to train. It was not all *that* different from Potions Classes . . . 

Wormtail had taken the older Death Eaters aside and issued them with Portkeys. These were spelled for activation only when they were needed. They were to return to headquarters with their teams by the stipulated time--when Voldemort summoned them via the Dark Mark. *If* he could do anything useful with this lot by that time.

Currently, he was trying to get the half dozen of them into some semblance of order in the shelter of the woods. They had given him their names--only they seemed entirely too keen on having "code names" for additional secrecy. He had sighed in resignation and gone onto explaining the rules.

"--and you're not to communicate with members of another team unless instructed. Do you under--"

"Ow!"

"What is it *now*?" he snapped at the wizard named Ormond.

"He nearly cracked his own head on a branch--the big dafty," sniggered a witch--what was her name? Kelly Slater. She had called herself Kali--the sheer melodrama these idiots embraced so willingly was getting on his nerves.

"Quiet!" he hissed. "Are you as stupid as you make out to be? This is not a picnic, boys and girls--this is a *mission*. Does anyone know a scrying spell?"

No one did.

"Is that Dark Magic?" someone asked.

All right, so he *did* wish that some of these dunderheads were even half as bright as his students, infernally annoying though they were. But this bunch would make his job a lot easier if they were continually incompetent. Voldemort would not be pleased though, if he didn't look like he was *at least* trying to whip them into shape . . .

"No--it is a spell you use to see into another place," he said, snapping off each syllable with iron-willed control. "We will need it if we don't want to be ambushed. How many of the Unforgivable Curses do you know?"

"All of them," said the wizard called Foley. The others nodded along.

"We'll see . . ." Snape smiled sarcastically. *This* he could handle. "Try it--yes, try it on me."

"W-which one?"

"Oh, the _Avada Kedavra_ one . . ."

From the gasps, none of them had *tried* the killing curse before. Snape smiled bitterly--*he* had known that curse since he was eight. Had used it when he was ten on a rabbit. It was true that he had gone to Hogwarts with more knowledge of the Dark Arts than anyone else. His grandmother had passed it down to him when he was a child--but it had been her intention to *warn* him about the Dark Arts, not encourage him. The younger Severus Snape had been a bit of a disappointment to her when he had taken the dark path . . .

"Come on--we don't have all night to stand out here waiting for you to start!"

"_Avada K-Kedavra_ . . ." Foley said without much conviction.

"I can't feel anything, Foley . . . You--Ormond, you try it."

In the end, none of them could even make him break into a sweat. One part of him was glad that these were not dyed-in-the-wool fanatics like the Lestranges, the other was furious at the sad drop in standards. Were these blunderers what passed for Death Eaters these days? His old trainers would have had these incompetents skinned and strung up to dry by now.

"Is *that* all we've got now?" he asked in a dangerously soft voice. "None of you have the resolution to kill even a fly! I doubt you have enough will power between all six of you to do even the Imperius curse!"

They flinched at his cutting tone.

"I mean, it ain't fair--we haven't--" Kali began.

"Shut up, you stupid girl! None of you even know anything! You need some form of *intention* to make the curses work! You have to *mean* it when you curse someone! You have to *want* them to die!"

Oh, Snape knew all about *intentions*. The intention to hurt, the intention of cause pain . . . The intention to kill. Just one moment's murderous desire and he had been left with a lifetime of regret.

His new "students" looked suitably cowed at his lecture and he went on smoothly.

"Assuming you even survive tonight, I will have you practising those curses everyday--_on each other_. For now, you will use the disarming and the stunning spells along with a few of the easier offensive ones--not too hard for you all, I *hope*," he said, his voice dripping sarcasm.

Those spells they *could* do and he made them practise them until he was satisfied.

"We're setting out now--kindly bear in mind that there are other wizards out there, and some of them might even consider using the Unforgivable Curses on you. You have to be faster and more ruthless than they are since you're obviously less powerful--survival of the fittest, you know . . ."

It was too good to hope that they would know, but it was the best he could do with the material he had been given to work with. Snape did not see much potential in them at all. The test tonight was too early in their initiation--they had to be seriously short of manpower if they had to rush the training like this. And in the first foray of the dangerous game of cat and mouse that Voldemort and Dumbledore were playing too. 

It was going to be the most intensive "weeding out the chaff" exercise in the history of the Death Eaters. If these apprentice Death Eaters actually accomplished anything tonight, he would be truly surprised.

He sketched a rough map in the air with his wand. "We will be combing this section--flush out anyone hiding in it and take them. I won't say *alive* because you're all not up to killing anything. Now listen carefully . . ."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was going to be another damp night in the trees. Sirius Black climbed back down from the lookout platform where he had been perching and rejoined his companions in this risky little venture. Of course, it was always a risky venture when hunting Death Eaters.

"Just like the old days, eh?" Sirius said to Mad-Eye Moody, who was seated cross-legged on the planks lashed to the branches to form a rough platform.

"You don't know half of it, Black," said the former Auror. He had his foe-detectors out and was steadily tracking the moment of groups of Death Eaters through the forest. The normal eye was watching a series of dots in a crystal ball while the magic eye was darting back and forth at the surrounding forest. "Didn't expect the bait to work this well . . . With this much evidence, the Ministry can't help but believe us now."

"We've got to catch them first--preferably someone sane who can say that they've seen Voldemort at full strength with their own two eyes with a truth potion administered," said a new voice. Minerva McGonagall was hovering beside the rude platform on her broomstick. She had been on an aerial patrol of the area.

"Well we've got Severus Snape if all things fail." Sirius did not look happy that they had to depend on Snape for any part of this operation.

"Fudge wouldn't believe him last month--we need to get something solid to convince him."

"Like Lucius Malfoy's head on a platter?" Sirius asked hopefully. Mad-Eye snorted, but kept his attention on his devices. "Can't get anything more thick than *that*."

"Restrain your enthusiasm for a moment, Sirius," McGonagall said though she too looked would have liked that very much.

"Yes, ma'am--right away, ma'am," Sirius said in imitation of a student.

"Nostalgia, Sirius?" Remus Lupin appeared on his broom--a new one that Sirius insisted on getting for him for all the years they had lost as friends. Lupin had said that being a godfather was obviously going to Sirius' head. He might have been a good father in his own right, but that was a moot point just then. All he cared about was bringing James and Lily's killer to justice. Life could wait. 

"About time you showed up," Moody grunted by way of greeting. "We were going to start without you."

It was the closest thing the old Auror had got to cracking an outright joke. They would need Lupin's skill in the Dark Arts for tonight. For backup, they had recruited Bill Weasley for his curse breaking skills and Gerad Connelly who was always up for adventure. The other two were on ground level setting up some surprises. They *had* expected to be outnumbered in this first open foray though.

"Bill and Gerad said that everything's set . . . " Lupin looked over the forest again. "It's now or never, Sirius."

Sirius nodded. "Let's get going then."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

__

The author mumbles incoherently: There's second part to this, but it's not done yet. Busy with more fic (The Education of Lupin and Snape with Quaxo.) and webpage construction. I only got this bit done somewhere between an essay on postmodernism and a lab report that I've put off for quite some time. Bad me, I shall flagellate myself with a damp bootlace when I find the time . . .

Disclaimer: All characters are © J. K. Rowling and the respective publishers except for those created as a supporting cast.

* * * * * * * * * * * *


	2. Part Two

Heart of Darkness (Continued, Part Two)

Heart of Darkness

(Continued, Part Two)

By Eline

__

"Heart of Darkness" is the sequel to "Sacrifice" but it can be read as a stand-alone.

(PG-13 for character torture and some violence.)

In the gorges and the forests on the southern side of the Carpathians, wizards walked the night. Seeking and searching . . .

Anticipation . . . It was as if the world was holding its breath--

Then the first explosion was heard, shattering the silence of the night like a stone through a glass window.

For the first time in years, dark magic users were battling out in the open again.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

There had been traps out there. Malfoy's group had set off the first one. A simple spell for trapping did not remain so after it has been hit with a combination of destructive spells by nervous wizards. Certain people had got wand-happy and the resultant explosion wrecked any chance at secrecy they had.

Severus Snape cursed from where he stood in the lee of a small copse of trees. He had sent half of his none-too-experienced team up on their brooms--it would be pleasant to think that they had *not* panicked . . .

Kelly Slater aka Kali came plunging out of the sparse canopy of trees, closely followed by the other two with broomsticks--what were their names again? Hodley and Creighton? One of them had wanted to call himself Lone Wolf or something equally idiotic. "The explosion--to the east of us," she gasped out. At least she had the presence of mind to spot any signs of danger.

"How far away?"

"A-about two miles . . ." she hazarded, waving her arm in the general direction of the explosion.

That would be Malfoy's group then. He knew a moment of vindictive pleasure as he thought about this--Malfoy would do well not to be so smug anymore. "We have to continue," he said calmly. "Watch for traps and don't blast away at shadows."

He fingered the nasty looking knife in his robes--it was the master's latest gift to his Death Eaters that doubled as a Portkey. The hilt was a carved section of a fanged snake--there was poison on the fangs. Voldemort did expect his Death Eaters to kill or die in his service now. Physical combat was to be avoided . . . He remembered the shameful trouncing he had received at the hands of Harry Potter and his friends when he had confronted Sirius Black in the Shrieking Shack--that was still too fresh in his mind to forget . . .

"You three, follow me," he said to the wizards on foot. "You're going to cover us from the air," he ordered Kali and company. With luck, they might not get hit in the back by friendly fire.

Before they moved on though, he took the precaution of secretly tagging them with a small locator charm. He didn't trust them not to get lost out here.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

This was not duelling. This was not even remotely anywhere close to fair play. It suited Sirius Black's mood just fine. 

He and Moody had came across a bunch of wizards stumbling away from the trap they had triggered off.

"It wasn't supposed to do *that*, was it?" Sirius asked from the shadow of the natural cleft that hid them from view.

"Hell no--those daft buggers probably panicked and blew the trap apart," Moody muttered. Here, in the rough mountainous terrain, the older man looked much more at ease with is wand and his magic detectors. He was a hunter now, not merely a paranoid old man, that much Sirius could see. "You ready, Black?"

"As much as I'll ever be . . ."

"All right--we'll try to hit as many of them as we can . . ."

They raised their wands and loosed the stunning spell. Red beams flared out, catching the dark wizards unawares. Some did try to attack, but they should have tried defending themselves instead, or even running away, because Mad-Eye Moody and Sirius Black had very good aim.

"The great boobies--they weren't even aiming right!" Sirius exclaimed as they picked their way through the aftermath of the very short battle.

"They couldn't see us. That's the guide to a long life, see them but don't let 'em see me--until it's too late for them," Moody explained as he turned over one of the fallen Death Eaters. "Eh, this explains it," he said sourly as he stripped off the mask and barred the left arm. "Lookit this--young and unmarked . . . The old snake's been recruiting again."

"So there'll be more of *these* out there?"

"Of course . . . but not all of them are greenhorns. We want a Death Eater--and we'll find a true blue one before this night is out, I wager. They won't be *this* easy to take down . . . They'll put up a fight and it'll be duelling for sure."

"I hope they try," Sirius growled. He was feeling more alive now that he was out doing something instead of hiding in fear.

Moody's face--ground zero for a large number of curses in years past--shifted into something resembling a smile. "That's the spirit . . . Just don't get *too* cocky, Black."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

So far, it had been quiet.

Much *too* quite for Snape's liking. There were no more explosions. But there had been some bright flashes and a scream echoing through the canyon area to the north. The battle was well underway.

He was sure he had seen an aerial battle a few moments back over the rocky gorges before the combatants had flown away. The three on the brooms were flying low, no doubt wary of engaging in an airborne battle . . . 

Snape paused in mid-step.

The hairs on his neck stood up and he withdrew a vial of blue powder from his sleeve. He threw a pinch of the stuff into he air and was rewarded by a brief flash of blue fire in the space between two trees.

There was a trap there. 

He edged around it gingerly. A very well hidden trap indeed. If not for the verdandi-root-and-oak powder--which ignited in the presence of magic--he might ever have spotted it. On closer examination, he deduced that it was a simple stasis trap--it would keep the victim frozen until the trap-setter came along. A safe, harmless trap that no Death Eater would ever set for his enemies. Death Eaters would prefer to their traps to kill.

So that was a trap set by the other side--his own side, he corrected--to collect Death Eaters . . .

His team, the ones on foot, were easy enough to find with his spell. They were also easily impressed by the way he could appear soundlessly wherever they were.

"You go that way," he said to Ormond, indicating the path to the trap. "Foley, head straight on--Bannon, you take the left."

After effectively separating his team, Snape moved on silently. He knew exactly where each of them were and it was easy to creep up behind Foley to effect a little harmless magic. 

Snape tapped him on the head with his wand. There was a faint rushing noise and there was a radish where Foley once was. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but the radish had retained Foley's slightly worried look. He shrugged inwardly--transfigurations were never his strong suit anyhow. He picked it up and set it aside so that it wouldn't get trampled. The ones who were doing the collecting of downed Death Eaters would find him and Ormond in the stasis trap.

Now for Bannon . . .

A figure appeared out of the mist up ahead. But it wasn't Bannon. Snape readied his wand.

"Severus!" It was Avery. He had his wand raised too. Snape lowered his wand. As much as he would like to blast his former colleagues to smithereens, it was not prudent to do it now. Though one less Death Eater could easily be blamed on the efforts of the Muggle-loving wizards this night . . .

"Severus--have you run across any traps?" Avery said. He too had lowered his wand, but he looked very nervous and liable to start setting off curses at any moment.

"No," Snape lied. "I sent the greenhorns out scouting. I haven't heard any yelling yet, so I assume that they haven't stubbed their toes on a rock or run into a trap."

"Well I've seen at least four," Avery muttered. "Had one hell of a time rescuing one of mine from a Tangle Web spell . . ."

"At least they're still alive--those Muggle-loving fools don't like killing," Snape said scornfully.

"True, but if there are Aurors out there . . ." Avery looked around, fear clear in his eyes behind the mask. "Well, Severus . . . I was thinking to heck with all this skulduggery. Safety in numbers, you know?" Avery was worried about his own hide.

Snape shrugged. "It's the all the same to me." This was fine by him--he didn't trust his colleagues either and he would prefer a situation in which he could keep an eye on some of them.

They started forwards again, and were joined shortly by another two from Avery's group.

"Where are the others?" Avery asked. He looked as though he was afraid of the answer.

The other two wizards shuffled their feet. "I-I think they got lost . . ."

"Or ran into traps," Snape injected. "We should have been training them up to avoid traps."

No sooner had he said that that one of Avery's team stumbled and fell with a yell of surprise. The next moment, he was gone.

"Portal trap!" Snape hissed and brought his wand up. Whoever was setting the traps was obviously very good at it. "No point looking for him anymore--he's gone--"

"_Stupefy_!" A stunning spell arced out and they dove aside. Except for the luckless most junior Death Eater who was not so fast on his feet.

Snape rolled aside and loosed his own spell into the clearing. It was too foggy to see properly . . .

"_Pyros_!" His fireball flew up and out--obviously deflected. He had not even been aiming at anything.

"_Expelliarmus_!" the other wizard cried.

He got his own deflecting spell out just in time but the aftermath of the Disarming Charm seemed to be imprinted on his retina for a moment.

"_Imperio_!" Avery had not started out with small curses.

It would be deflected, Snape knew. Avery was not close enough to use that curse effectively. You had to be almost face to face for the Imperius curse to take hold properly . . .

"_Pyros_!" The other wizard was not above fireballs either. But Snape had seen where the spell had came from at last.

"_Reducto_!"

Snape missed deliberately again, but it was close enough to appear like a genuine attempt. A tree splintered apart and they could see the other wizard now as he was flushed into the open and bereft of his cover.

"_Electros_!" 

"_Stupefy_!"

Two spells cast simultaneously. Forked lightning arched down--it was accurate this time. But the stunning spell had also found its mark on Avery just as the other wizard went down, choking on a cry.

"_Accio_!" He acquired the downed wizard's wand just as Goyle lumbered into the clearing in the next moment. This was when he had to put on a good show--this was when he had to grit his teeth and use those horrible curses . . .

"What happened?" wheezed Goyle.

"Avery--he's down. Just stunned. But we got *him*. _Lumos_!" Snape strode over to the prone figure of the other wizard and kicked him onto his back. By the light of his wand, he could make out the face--

It was Remus Lupin.

"Him!" Snape's revulsion was not entirely feigned. It was the werewolf; James Potter and Sirius Black's friend--the one who had taken the Defence Against the Dark Arts position for a year after that nancy-boy Lockhart. He could not think of another wizard he could despise more.

"Who is it?" Goyle asked.

"Remus Lupin--the werewolf. One of Dumbledore's pets," he spat. "I always wanted to get this one . . ."

Even Goyle was taken aback by the ugliness in his tone.

"_Crucio_!" A part of him was so *willing* to say the curse . . .

Again. The werewolf bucked and cried out--it sounding remarkably like the howl of his were-shape. 

His wand twitched again. Another scream--it was loud enough to be heard by anyone in the area. No matter, this would be over soon . . .

_No. _

He reined in his murderous mood. This was not the way . . . He could not afford to lose control like this.

Snape lowered his wand. "I think a little more pain would be in order . . ."

"Finish him off now, Snape," Goyle urged. "One less against us, remember?"

"I like to take it slow," Snape said calmly, daring the other man to challenge him. "Would you like to stay and watch?" he asked, poisonously smooth. "I was thinking of practising some new hexes."

"N-no . . ." Goyle looked a little green at his suggestion. "I'll go see if Malfoy's bunch've found Karkaroff . . ."

_Not so tough now, are you?_ Snape could have laughed out loud as Goyle back away and left the clearing. They thought he was still as bloodthirsty as he was fourteen years ago. This might just work out . . .

"Hold, Severus!" It was Macnair--the last person Snape would have expected to object to ridding the world of one more werewolf.

"What is it now?" he snapped in irritation.

"Don't kill him yet--we haven't got Karkaroff or any one else. He's the only one we could catch."

Snape swore silently. He had been hoping to get Lupin alone--then he could have created a doppelganger or golem of the werewolf and pretend to kill it. "Are you sure? This one's the *werewolf*--I'd rather not let him live, *if* you don't mind. He nearly killed me--*three* times now."

"Can't be helped," Macnair said with a shrug. "We've got to have *something* to show for tonight . . . It's an absolute mess--no trace of Karkaroff--he was probably never here. Avery and Crabb are both down. The other wizards are gone--we can't find a trace of them anywhere."

Lucius Malfoy chose that moment to apparate into the clearing. Snape noticed how unruffled and clean he looked. He would have wagered any number of limbs that Malfoy had apparated out of harms' way once things had got hairy in the woods.

"Ah," Malfoy said a little too loudly. "You caught one of them."

"No thanks to you," Snape said venomously.

Malfoy pretended not to hear him. " Well, we'll have to take him back with us."

"I've been needing to try this out," Macnair said and drew out something like a collar with a lead attached. "A collar for were-beasts. The spells'll keep him quiet--might even prevent the metamorphosis at full moon . . . if it works"

"Try it then--but you'll be responsible if he escapes," Snape muttered. The full moon . . . it was barely three days away. Was Lupin insane, to have volunteered for this venture at that stage of the cycle? Or was it a suicide mission all the same?

What did the Muggles say before battles? _Come back with your shield or on it . . ._

The burly executioner clapped the collar around the werewolf's next and Lupin gasped in pain. It was then that Snape realised that the collar was made of sliver. 

"Come on--we'll--" Macnair broke off and winced. They all did. It was the Dark Mark, burning malevolently like a hot coal on their skin.

"Time's up--we've got to leave *now*," Malfoy said through gritted teeth. He apparated--no doubt to collect the remnants of his team.

Snape had to do the same, leaving Macnair to bring the werewolf in.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Sirius smiled grimly as a spell flashed past his right side.

"_Reducto_!"

He ducked the destructive beam and sent his own stunning beam sweeping out at chest level. His opponent fell with a thump to the ground.

He looked around warily. There was nothing in the vicinity of a Death-Eater-ish persuasion he could take on . . . It had been an eventful night. He had used his Animagi skills in the woods to stalk the Death Eaters after he and Moody had split up because "there's plenty of them out there for the both of us" the older man had said. 

So far, Sirius had duelled face to face twice and stunned them both without too much wear and tear on himself. Another one he had driven into a Tangle Web trap, while two others he had bitten to disarm and had knocked them out easily by slamming them against a convenient tree while in his Animagi form. Probably only new recruits, but it was satisfying work all the same.

It was like an exorcism of his frustrations--he felt so much better after a good fight. He was not helpless and hopeless as he was back in Azkaban . . . He could fight against the evil now.

Just then, Professor McGonagall flew down to meet him.

"Lovely morning, isn't it?" Sirius asked brightly. Dawn was breaking.

"Sirius, really . . . I swear you think this is a-a *Quidditch match*!" She was carrying a large white rabbit in one arm.

"Hardly--Quidditch matches against the Slytherins were always dirtier," Sirius said with a grin. "Is that your new pet, ma'am?"

"You're incorrigible, Sirius. Now take this back to Hogwarts. It's over now." She handed him the rabbit and flew off, probably to get the others.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll take care of it like it was my own pet rabbit . . ."

Sirius apparated and reappeared in a lodge just outside the school grounds in the Forbidden Forest. It was a small place that was rapidly filling up with stunned Death Eaters and a number of transfigured ones as well.

"You all right?" Bill asked as he set the rabbit down.

"The most they harm they did was to set fire to my boots. Those were *new* boots too. What happened to you?" Sirius asked as he noticed Bill's slightly singed jacket.

"Some of them ganged up on me--two of them on brooms even--but Prof. McGonagall came swooping down like a Fury. You should've seen her--she turned one of them into a rabbit and set their broomsticks on fire!"

"And got you too?"

"No--they got lucky with some fireballs. No harm done--Madam Pomfrey supplied us with lots of burn lotion."

Mad-Eye popped in the next moment, swearing so inventively that Sirius and Bill did not know if they should take notes or applaud. 

"What happened?"

"Got away--the filthy bastard," Moody growled and continued swearing. In between the cursing, Sirius and Bill deduced that Moody had been duelling with a real Death Eater but the coward had apparated out of it abruptly. "He probably felt the old snake calling for him . . . so he had to go like a whipped cur!" Moody subsided and stamped away to a corner where he took a few pulls from his hip flask to calm himself.

"Ah well, we can't win them all," Bill said and peered out of the window. "Cripes--look at the time . . ."

"Thanks, Bill--you best clear off before your mum comes after us for keeping you up too late," Sirius joked. Bill was currently on leave from Gringotts and he was supposed to be visiting his parents. But he had agreed to use his vacation time to help them out in a pinch.

Bill swung a mock-punch at Sirius good-naturedly and left just as Gerad Connelly and Minerva McGonagall popped in with a cabbage and a spider in a jar. The curly-haired wizard, like McGonagall, was very good at transfigurations. 

"I say, that was quite thrilling!" Gerad said, his freckled face beaming despite the fact that they had been out all night working magic. Moody in his corner snorted. "Well we *did* win . . . sort of . . ." Gerad trailed off and looked to Professor McGonagall.

"That was a night's work well done, I suppose," McGonagall said grudging as they surveyed their catch. The Ministry probably could not have done as well with so little.

"Hmmm . . . a radish. Who turned this chap into radish?" Gerad asked from the table where the transfigured wizards were placed.

"I don't remember turning anyone into a *radish*," said Professor McGonagall said with small frown as she examined the worried looking radish. "A rabbit, yes . . . and a cabbage, but no radishes."

The rabbit (which had been separated from the cabbage and the radish for safety reasons) began to wash its ears with a disgruntled air. It had been staring at the radish and cabbage for quite some time.

"What are we going to do with them?"

"Turn them all into cabbages--then we can have Hagrid plant them in the gardens. Should keep them out of the way for some time," Sirius said with maniac glee. The adrenaline had not left him entirely and he was feeling like a schoolboy again. "And we could have some salad--"

Professor McGonagall's glower did not cause him to quail completely. "It was only a suggestion . . . Nothing *serious*--at least not the last bit . . ."

"They will be taken into custody by the Ministry." Albus Dumbledore had appeared in the lodge. His expression was extremely sober.

"What? The Ministry can't even find their own--" Sirius looked sideways at Professor McGonagall and edited his comment hastily. "--Can't even take care of their own business properly much less Death Eaters."

"They aren't Death Eaters, Sirius. Or rather, they aren't marked Death Eaters as you have discovered," Dumbledore said. "We can only hope to get a confession out of them using a truth potion or a Truth Verifying spell."

"Is that enough then?"

"I'm afraid not--the most I can do is convince Fudge that someone is trying to emulate Voldemort and recruit Death Eaters. He has to take that seriously." Dumbledore looked quite grim by then. "So that was the first round--a draw . . . Um, where's Remus?"

"What?"

"But . . . Lupin didn't come back with us!" Gerad said.

"Remus!" Sirius exclaimed, a nasty gaping pit opening up where his stomach used to be. Any excitement he had felt trickled away and was replaced by cold dread. "But I thought he was with *you*!"

"He landed--he was said he wasn't up to casting spells on a broom," Professor McGonagall gasped out as she turned pale. "He probably faced off against some of them on the ground . . ."

"He might be injured . . ."

"He's probably with *them* now," Mad-Eye said fatalistically, voicing their worst fears. "Well, we didn't except zero casualties, did we?"

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Back in Voldemort's lair, things were not going well, as predicted.

"Disappointing--the first foray and already I find you wanting . . ." The Dark Lord strode around the prone forms of his Death Eaters with Nagini slithering in his wake. The high vaulted ceiling amplified his voice--not that it was needed in the gloomy quiet. "A mere handful of wizards against the lot of you, my elite, and they all managed to escape--*alive* while you've lost half your forces. What do you have to say for yourselves now?"

A pin dropping at that moment would have sounded like a twelve course dining set going down the stairs in the chilly silence.

"Deception and trickery are more to your tastes, I believe . . . I knew that it was a trap and you were all told this. Yet you seem rather *rusty* at avoiding traps today . . . We are not strong enough yet it seems. The new recruits are not up to standard, but they can still be used as glorified errand boys. The bulk of the important assignments will be shouldered by all of you." No one dissented--or at least no one *dared* to. "Good . . ." There was perceivable lifting of the tension that had lain as thick as smog over the chamber. "But--"

The Dark Lord spun around abruptly and everyone ceased breathing. "--I will not tolerate failures *this* lightly again. Get gone from my sight until you have something significant to present to me."

"Master, there is still the werewolf," Pettigrew reminded him nervously.

"Yes . . . though how much information you can squeeze out of it is debatable . . . Dumbledore would not have told it his plans if there was any danger of capture. Still . . . A *werewolf*." Voldemort smiled. "I have not had one in my power in a long time . . . It will be enjoyable to see how this one holds up. So who wants to have a go at it?" He sounded almost cheerful while asking this.

"Avery? Wormtail? Ah, *Severus*?"

"I would be glad to, master. I am owed blood," Snape said carefully. _Mustn't sound too eager or too reluctant . . ._

"Indeed, Severus . . . just make sure the werewolf doesn't conveniently die on us. We might have other uses for it--like the Imperious curse . . ."

One could take that statement in more ways than one . . . The others looked suitably cowed--they thought he had it in for the werewolf.

The most frightening thing was that he still did.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Sirius, however, was not one to let things be. 

He was going to find his friend and rescue him if he was captured--Mad-Eye had agreed to go along, so had Gerad Connelly.

Gerad was Remus' acquaintance, not his own, but he seemed fairly enthusiastic about fighting for their cause. And they were short of manpower as it was . . .

"Harry . . . Will he be safe?" he asked Dumbledore. Sirius was clearly torn between friendship and his duty as Harry's godfather.

"He is safe--there is the Blood Tie and the Figgs are watching over him," Dumbledore said. The spell was an ancient one that simply bound blood by blood. Dumbldore had invoked the protective spell when Harry had first came to live with his uncle and aunt. As long as Harry remained with his relations, Voldemort could not touch him there. The Figgs were watching over the Muggles to make sure that Voldemort's minions did not attempt to do away with them. (Although they had once said that it would not be entirely a bad thing . . .)

"If anything happens, you've got to take care of him, sir," Sirius pleaded.

Dumbledore nodded. Sirius knew that the headmaster had been watching over Harry for most of his life, but he had to have some reassurance before heading off on his own mission. Dumbledore had more than just a few lives to worry about now that Voldemort was active again, which was why Sirius had asked for nothing more than his blessing before they left again.

There were dark times ahead, they all knew that. Starting from now . . .

* * * * * * * * * * * *

__

The author wears her Lupy Groupies (don't ask) tee-shirt with pride: I had to put in some of my favourite characters in here . . . and I needed angst after TEoLaS (under Quaxo's fics) and drawing Snape and Lupin in leather pants. And there's a third and last part of Heart of Darkness coming soon I hope . . .

Disclaimer: All characters are © J. K. Rowling and the respective publishers except for those created as a supporting cast.

* * * * * * * * * * * *


	3. Part Three

Heart of Darkness

Heart of Darkness

(Continued, Part Three)

By Eline

__

"Heart of Darkness" is the sequel to "Sacrifice" but it can be read as a stand-alone.

(PG-13 for character torture and some violence.)

There was some argument as to the methods involved for a start.

"Why bother with all this light stuff? Get on with it!" Avery was saying in the dungeon-like torture chamber. He was in a foul mood after beginning lectured for losing his Portkey out in the woods while he was unconscious.

"Yeah, make him squeal." That was from Crabbe.

The four new recruits who had survived the "training exercise" looked at him expectantly. There were supposed to be learning the finer points of wringing information from captives and they had learned to keep their mouths shut in the presence of the other Death Eaters now. Now it looked a scene from the grisly Muggle Inquisition with all of these masked and hooded figures standing around . . .

"You have no subtlety . . ." Snape shook his head. They wouldn't know subtlety even if it ran up and bit them in the trousers. "And remember--the master wants him *alive* for the Imperious curse."

Lupin was indeed alive--stretched out on the rack without a single mark on him. He was sweating though--the result of a strong itching spell that was also making him twitch continually.

"It can drive a man mad . . . Constant irritation serves to wear them down. Would you like to try this?" 

By their uneasy looks, they were none too keen on the idea. Snape wanted to shake them all for being fools. He had truth potions, stuff that could make anyone gabble non-stop for *days*--but everyone seemed to have forgotten about his forte. They would rather play with the master's torture chamber than use what was right under their noses. Well, he certainly wasn't going to help them out there . . .

And he had to keep Lupin alive--for his own sake. After that night, when his self-control had reasserted itself, he had been disquieted by the outcome of his own actions. Under Voldemort's eyes, he had to do what was expected--but none of it had given him that sickening yet curiously sweet rush back in the forest. It was as though he had been submerged back into those dreadful days of violence while in that mask . . .

He had not wanted to look or touch his mask afterwards. It was a facade for the darker side of his soul--the side that was decidedly *not* queasy about torturing former enemies . . .

"It's about time you started practising those curses," he said to his so-called apprentices. Avery and Crabbe had to be reassured of his ruthlessness. "You . . . Creighton--start with the Cruciatus Curse . . ."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

There was pain. And there was *pain*.

Remus Lupin did know about pain. His life had been marked by it. Every single full moon. Losing close friends. Betrayal by said close friends. Generally being considered a monster unfit to live in the societies of men. Being alone.

Oh, he knew about pain all right.

There were scars--testimony to what he was and the violent nature of his other shape. The wolf knew pain too. Every single full moon. Nights spent locked away from the rest of the world. Alone and without any kin or pack. Struggling against its duel nature and slowly going mad by degrees.

The wolf knew about pain all right.

It made the torture easier to bear--because he had known pain worst than anything they could dish out.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

In Voldemort's secret lair, screams never travelled very far beyond the thick walls . . .

The others could pop in and out as and when they chose with Portkeys, but he had chosen to stay. Not exactly *chosen*--he had no where else to go. He was supposed to be on leave and here he was, suddenly feeling adrift and homesick . . . for Hogwarts. And there was the matter of keeping an eye on Lupin . . . It had been going on for three days now and Snape was on the edge.

The werewolf was withstanding all their efforts at putting the Imperius Curse on him--a record endurance that was going to wear him down faster than torture could. Voldemort had let the other Death Eaters at him to "soften him up" a little more.

The others--well, they were more *direct* in their approach. Macnair and Goyle were the ones who preferred the human-punching-bag-routine. Pettigrew--*Wormtail*--seemed to be under some sort of pressure from Voldemort to torment his former friend. And he did it too--Snape had been present when Wormtail had dislocated Lupin's fingers one by one. He had been on hand to set the bones so that they could break them with the thumbscrews.

Lupin was bearing up much *too* well for a man without hope of deliverance. No doubt his friends were out searching for him, but they would never be able to find this place for ages. And by then, it might be too late--too late for him to salvage the situation. 

It was all Snape could do not to revel in it--time after time, he got the feeling that he himself was putting off the rescue . . .

He could always slip him some of those nightshade and cyanide capsules . . .

_How much do you want Lupin dead?_

But he had not yielded to the dreadful temptation. Not yet . . . He had not betrayed the trust Dumbledore had given so freely.

But how was he going to do this when he did not even know where he was? The amount of secrecy involved was

_No. That was merely an excuse . . ._

His thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of Avery.

"Severus? It's nearly the full moon--thought you might to see it."

And there was Macnair's experiment too . . . Snape got up and swept after the other wizard to where the other Death Eaters and a few apprentices were.

They were gathered outside a cell that was fenced with bars on one side, watching the werewolf with a sort of morbid interest. If Macnair's collaring device actually worked . . . well, they would find *some* application for it along the way.

Lupin was slumped in a corner, staring dully at nothing in particular. He was definitely worst for wear after these few days.

"I haven't seen a werewolf transform before," Avery said.

"It gets dead boring after a while," Wormtail said in a neutral tone.

"All right, let's begin." Macnair gestured with his wand and a section of the ceiling slid open to reveal a barred opening that led to a well-like tunnel that was open to the sky. It was a relatively clear night and no clouds obscured the moon.

Silver white moonlight filtered into the cell from the well. The werewolf gave up all pretence at indifference and shrank back against the wall. But it was no use. He started stiffening and the metamorphosis took over. 

The screams were still the same after all these years . . . 

The werewolf's true face emerged and started howling--the silver collar was hurting it even more in mid-change now. The shaggy humanoid pawed at the collar that was causing it so much pain and then something particular happened.

The change seemed to falter and then it halted completely.

"It's reversing . . ."

Indeed, the fur was receding and the muzzle withdrew back into some semblance of a human face. The werewolf knew a moment of disorientation before it howled again. It was the howl of the wolf. And then he was flinging himself against the bars like a rabid animal.

The Death Eaters drew back as one. The wolf was looking out of those normally mild eyes. The change had only been prevented on the external level. The wolf's mind was trapped in a human body and it was *not* pleased.

"It worked--he didn't change," Macnair began.

"I don't know about that," Avery said doubtfully. "He still looks like a rabid wolf . . ."

"Perhaps we could put it on him when he's a werewolf? That would keep him in that shape even when the moon wanes and the master would be pleased with a new pet."

"Excellent idea," Snape said with all the sarcasm he could muster and he sneered. "So you're volunteering to go in there, take the collar off and wait for it to change into a wolf before putting it back on?"

Macnair looked less sure of himself. "Er . . . Not now--maybe we could--"

"I, for one, am not having anything to do with it until the moon wanes," Snape said. He had to head Macnair off before he could think of the simple expedient of stunning Lupin first. It would be a lot harder to free a wolf than a human--at least it would be for him. The memory of his near brush with a messy death had been branded into his memory. "Besides, the Imperius curse won't work on a werewolf." That had never been proven--mainly because no one had the nerve to try it. "Shut the skylight--the howling's getting on my nerves."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was night in the forest when Snape activated a Portkey to take him out to the place where they had so spectacularly failed. He now knew that they had been in the region known as Transylvania near the Harghita Mountains. After referring a map, of course (geography being another thing that he had not concerned himself with for thirteen years). He might need to relay his message by owl if he could not find what he was looking for . . .

A quick search around the approximate area where the duels had taken place yielded what he needed for his plan to succeed. Now for the others . . .

Fate was being kind to him that night. The ones he was looking for found him instead.

Barely half an hour later, two figures were striding his way in the murky gloom. Snape could guess who they were. They were searching for their friend, no doubt. Black was always predictable--it was a good thing Voldemort was preoccupied with some other affairs, or else the Dark Lord would have been the one to bait a trap with a werewolf. 

They suddenly halted--perhaps they had detected him already if Mad-Eye Moody was there with his wizard-detectors and his magic eye.

The sooner he got this over with, the better . . . He walked out of the cover of the trees and was confronted by two pairs of very suspicious eyes.

"You! What have you done with Remus?" Black demanded, raising his wand.

"Kindly remember that I am on your side," Snape said coldly, keeping extremely still. Black on the loose with a wand--just *wonderful*. "I'm here to warn you--they're ready for you even if you can *find* Voldemort's lair bumbling around like this."

"If you really were on our side you'd have told us where it was by now!" Black hissed.

"I don't know where it is," Snape said with poisonous politeness. "I only got out via a Portkey."

"What good is that then?"

"I have another one." He moved slowly and drew out Avery's Portkey from his robes. "Avery dropped it when they dragged him back. It's an active one--but not keyed for individuals."

"And what do we do with it?" Mad-Eye asked shrewdly.

"It will bring you into his lair--you have very little time to get the werewolf out of there and escape. Be careful--the fangs are poisoned!" he said as he passed it over. The desire for Black to scratch himself accidentally on those fangs was seeping through his veneer of self-control.

"Figures . . ." Black looked at the evil-looking item with disgust as he held it with his fingertips.

"And what about Voldemort then?" 

"He is there--which is why you would *never* stand a chance if you found his lair. But he's not always there . . ." He had overheard Wormtail and Voldemort speaking--the master would not be in his lair for the next few days. Giving all this information to Black made his stomach clench but it was necessary at this point . . .

"So when'll Voldemort be out?" He could see how eager Black was to confront James Potter's killer--it was all Snape could do to not let the fool have that opportunity.

"Three days from tonight onwards--I suggest you have enough wizards to back you up." 

"This had better not be a trap," Black said threateningly.

Snape did not bother with denying anything. It was not likely that Black would trust him or his word. "I will be missed if I don't get back."

And he activated his Portkey to leave before he was tempted to taunt Black with all the poisonous observations he had accumulated over the years.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Severus Snape was gone before Sirius could question him some more.

"Grim sort of chap, wasn't he?" Gerad remarked as he emerged out from behind them. They had thought it prudent to keep one of them hidden while meeting Snape.

Sirius snorted. "I don't trust him . . ."

"Neither do I, but you know Dumbledore does," Mad-Eye said reflectively as he gazed at where Snape had been. 

"I wonder why . . ." Sirius turned over the ugly knife carefully. This was the key to Remus' freedom--a Portkey and the word of a Death Eater. A reformed Death Eater if Dumbledore could be believed.

Gerad coughed. "Ahem--Sirius, could I have a word?"

"Spit it out," Sirius said impatiently.

"All right, Sirius--Remus said I could trust you with this," Gerad began, "being an Animagus and all that . . . Well, I'm one too. Naturally-born."

Naturally-born Animagi? That was something new . . . But Sirius knew better than to be surprised. The Ministry had too much on their hands fourteen years back to care about registering all the Animagi across the globe. Two whole generations of Animagi, natural-born or otherwise, had probably slipped past their not-so-vigilant eyes. 

It was a bit of an understatement to say that Sirius' own opinion of the Ministry was rather low--he thought even his godson Harry and his friends would probably do a better job in a shorter time.

"I won't be the one to tell," Sirius replied. The Ministry would not get much of his help in that matter. "If it's an advantage in this situation--we'll take it."

"It's not just me," Gerad said with a nervous glance at Moody.

"That's all right, lad," Mad-Eye said, his normal eye on Gerad while the other one swept the surrounding forest. "Got nothing 'gainst Animagi . . . naturally-born or no."

"My sister Caitlin--she's my twin--and a few others--old friends you might say . . . We might be able to help."

Sirius looked at him, frowning. Remus had said that they could trust Gerad on this sort of thing. Trust was hard after so many betrayals--he hardly trusted Snape though he knew just what the man was going through as a double agent. But he had to trust in his friend's trust if he wanted Remus out of the clutches of those filthy Death Eaters.

And perhaps even trust one of the people he loathed the most if it came to that. It was Remus' life on the line here.

"All right, I'm listening . . ."

"My friends can get here in an hour." Gerad looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, I already told them about this--they're waiting in Fagaras."

"You *what*?" Sirius was livid. "I thought this was supposed to be a secret--"

"I *trust* them, Sirius!" Gerad said--it came out a little forced because Sirius had grabbed him by the collar. "And Remus does too--"

"He's not lying, Black," Moody said dispassionately. "But I'll say one thing, Connelly--one more little ploy like this and I'm throwin' you out on yer ear."

Gerad straightened his jacket when Sirius let him go. "Thank you--I'm more used to working with my own team, I'm afraid. Excuse me for a moment." And he took out a Muggle device from his pocket and walked a little ways away from them to contact his friends. Gerad Connelly behaved more like a Muggle than any other wizard Sirius had ever known--including his godson Harry.

"Who does he think he is?" Sirius muttered. He was still steamed at Gerad's indiscretion.

"That one . . . not the bad sort fer all that he's practically a Muggle--'enthusiastic but misguided', the Ministry always said," Moody told him. "But from what I heard, it's better to have him on yer side--so as you can keep an eye on him. Got more crazy plans than anyone, or so I've heard."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Waiting was the worst part. It was like that fiasco in Romania--only this time, it was going to be even more unpredictable.

The master was out and about in the world, perpetuating his dark reign in whatever insidious way he had not shared with the Death Eaters. Voldemort was not as trusting of his subordinates as he had been before--with good reason, Snape supposed.

It was going to get harder to squirrel out any useful scraps of information . . .

The sound of a distant roar punched through his ruminations like an alarm. Snape had a feeling that that was all of the advanced warning he was going to get from Black and whatever forces he was bringing in. He exited the chamber he had made his own and headed for the cells. It seemed that most of the Death Eaters--the senior ones at least--were not about Voldemort's lair at this hour. It would be easier for him to carry out his distasteful task . . .

The werewolf was sprawled in an untidy heap where they had left him after Macnair's experiment.

Up close, the werewolf was hardly threatening when the moon was waning. Dark shadows underlined his eyes on his all too pale face. His fingers were bloodied from trying to scratch the door down while the wolf had been in control yesterday night. If not for the slight rise and fall of his chest, he would have looked like one of the dead.

The werewolf twitched and opened his eyes as Snape bent over him.

There was no fear in those eyes, only a kind of resignation as he probably thought they were going to start on him again. A sullen voice wished that this would be so . . . _What right did the werewolf have to be free when *he* could not escape the darkness of his past?_

Snape unlocked the enchanted collar and took it off roughly. Lupin reached up and touched the ugly red welt on his neck gingerly. Or rather, he tried to--his fingers were stiff and unyielding from Wormtail's ministrations.

"Your friends have come for you," Snape hissed. "Get up!" But the werewolf was not capable of even this--though he did *try* to get up. And failed spectacularly.

It was then that Snape realised that he would have to touch the werewolf to get him upright. Or he could always use a spell . . . But common sense asserted that that was absurd--the werewolf was hardly in any shape to scratch him. Then he had to overcome his revulsion at being this close to the werewolf . . .

_Get on with it . . ._ he thought firmly and grasped the werewolf's bony shoulder.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Gerad's crazy idea, however far-fetched, had worked.

Gerad's old friends had surprises up their sleeves that an ordinary wizard would never have thought of. Then again, they were not ordinary wizards. Rather, they had seemed more like Muggles at first, like Gerad. 

"My upbringing--grew up in London like any other kid before Hogwarts," Gerad had told them earlier on. He was from one of those wizarding families that had chosen to lose themselves in large, densely populated Muggle cities to hide from Voldemort's reign of terror. The result was a Muggle wizard who had turned out a tad . . . unconventional. His friends were no different.

To Sirius and Moody's collective surprise, Gerad had called them by telephone--a Muggle device that worked like a fireplace only that it could fit neatly in the pocket of his Muggle-made jacket. Then his friends arrived--three on broomsticks and a short petite woman and a black man on a Muggle vehicle.

It was a flying motorcycle--a real Muggle motorbike bewitched to fly like a broomstick. Sirius thought enviously of his own Harley. It had been his pride and joy, all those years ago. To see one again made him nostalgic . . .

He would have liked to ask them the make of the motorcycle, but by then he was being introduced to Dimitri Kheryvek, Lee Kailing, Edward Greene, Caitlin Connelly and Terence Lucas. Terence was a Muggle while the other four except Edward were Animagi.

"Gerad, what in the wo--"

"It's all right--Terry knows all there is to know about us," Gerad had said, unperturbed as he casually introduced the tall black man.

"Please you meet you anyway," said Terence good-naturedly--he seemed used to this sort of reception from wizards. "We heard Remus was in trouble, so we came right away."

"You do have a plan, right Sirius?"

The plan, simply put, was to get into the lair via the Portkey and get Remus out again. "I know it needs a bit of work . . ." he had said after the silence that had followed this announcement.

"A bit?" Moody muttered darkly. "I thought you were supposed to be *smart*, Black . . ."

Sirius wanted to say that his energy and brainpower had been more directed towards playing pranks in his youth, but that was just plain stupid. He got a rein on his temper and reminded himself that he wasn't sixteen anymore. 

"Just a small suggestion, Sirius?" said Caitlin Connelly--she was obviously Gerad's twin from her curly hair to the freckles on her nose. "Even if they are waiting for us when we pop up, we've got to be unpredictable."

"And we can handle unpredictable," Edward Greene said with a slight smile. He was Caitlin's husband and they were holding hands like this was some peaceful walk in the park.

"That is, if we can get a move on before we freeze our bums off here," said Kailing, snapping a wad of gum impatiently. She radiated a kind of impatient energy--rather like the emanations you got from a spell that was about to go off any second.

"Look," Moody began tersely. "Connelly, you're off your rocker for dragging Muggles in with us--"

"Mr. Moody, now is not the time for your prejudices to show," Gerad said quite seriously. "Muggles aren't any less vulnerable than wizards."

"I chose to come, Mr. Moody," Terence said politely. "I owe Remus a favour--we all do."

"He might be useful in a tight spot," Caitlin said reasonably. "Especially when we're in need of any extra set of hands--he's trained in self-defence."

"Not too badly for a nature photographer cum bleeding heart conservationist either," Kailing chipped in.

"Thank you, Kai," Terence said dryly.

"No problem--your ego was getting a little swelled up just now." 

"We can't go anywhere without some bickering, can we?" Dimtri asked. He was a dark-haired man with a thin face and ears that stuck out a little. Sirius wondered what Animagi form he had before wrenching his mind firmly back to the matter at hand.

Their bickering, however, looked like a practised act. Gerad's friends did look and act a team, however odd their methods.

Looking over his small army, Sirius realised that it was the best he could do for now. No point calling in the Ministry--they probably wouldn't even *bother* about saving a known werewolf. They were on their own. And he could admire Terence for his spunk--it was something he himself would do for a friend even if he was Muggle, dangerous magic flying all over the place or not. "All right, we're all going in--what's your surprise?" he asked, ignoring Moody's furious look. Respect and precedence be hanged--Remus' life was on the line here.

"Kai," Gerad said, indicating the woman in the leather jacket. "Nobody ever expects Kai."

"I hope you're sure of this, Gerad," Edward said. He did not seem afraid to question this plan. "Kai hasn't done this very often."

"I take whatever chance I get," Kai said. She looked slightly happier at this prospect.

"Kai's got to change out here," Dimitri said as the woman shrugged off her black jacket and handed it to him. "It gets awkward . . ."

"I never saw her change," Terence said. "Not once in ten years."

"Oh you'll see why . . . I'd back up a little, if I were you."

Sirius knew what changing shape entailed. It was not painful like Remus' metamorphosis, but more like the feeling of being as mouldable as clay for an instant as one went in between two shapes, stretching and tucking here and there to fit into the physical specifications of another form.

But in Kailing's case, she kept stretching. Stretching, twisting . . . coiling into something far larger than he had expected.

Sirius was dimly aware that his jaw was hanging open.

Coil after coil of gleaming black scaled torso rolled past them. This shape . . . was something like a Great Wyrm or a sea serpent. But it had short arms and viciously sharp claws like a dragon's. The head was as long as Sirius was tall, with great fan-like membranes protruding out on each side. Each pearly eye was larger than standing mirrors. But then the film of membrane covering them lifted and they saw that her eyes were golden and glowing like banked embers.

"A dragon?" he asked in wonder. But she had no wings . . .

"A sea dragon to be exact--native only to the Eastern Pacific region," Edward said. The dragon was keeping very still--she would have flattened any one of them easily if she misplaced even one of her massive coils.

"Two hundred metres of magical hide too--impervious to any curse," Dimitri said, patting the scaled section beside him. The dragon made a deep, throaty noise as if to say that Dimitri would do well to be a little less familiar if he wanted to keep his current shape.

"Now you know why Kai doesn't do that unless she's outside, near a large body of water for preference," Gerad said to Terence. The Muggle looked just as surprised as Sirius felt. And Moody--he was showing as much astonishment as his disfigured face could manage. But now there was a real chance that they could storm Voldemort's stronghold and get away with it . . .

The dragon rumbled softly--that is, the ground started shaking gently around them--and curled back her lips. It did have teeth--very sharps ones at that.

"That's her way of saying _get on with it!_" Caitlin said grimly.

"All right--hang on everyone." The Portkey was brought out and everyone held on--or at least held on to someone else's arm/shoulder/claw because the dagger was a tricky thing to get a grip on to even without the poison on the fangs. Sirius prodded it with his wand to activate it--

One stomach-lurching shift in the fabric of reality and the horrid feeling of falling over an endless drop later, they were no longer in the forest. This place was made of stone walls and the ceiling was as high as that of a cathedral. This was fortunate for Kailing--her head was brushing the vaulted roof as she reared up to sniff the musty air.

Several gaping archways lining the sides lead away from this room to parts unknown. There was a stone throne at one end of the drafty chamber--it was carved with a revolting frieze of snakes curling all over it. No one had to guess the owner of that forbidding seat.

"We're in the old snake's den for certain," Moody said darkly. "But he's not at home, that's why we're all still breathin'. Looks like Snape was being honest . . ."

"Don't speak too soon--this place gives me the willies," Sirius said in a loud whisper. "This must be where Voldemort holds his little court. We'll have to move out and search for Remus . . ."

"Kai, you're going to have to change back," Gerad said to the dragon. But in the next moment, a hooded man walked into the chamber.

There was a silent pause as everyone froze, then wands were raised. A silvery arm emerged from the Death Eater's robes with his own wand. The first spell erupted forth half a second later.

"That's torn it," Moody said grimly as the Death Eater fended off their spells and set off an Alarm Charm that could probably be heard from Australia. "Every Death Eater around here'll be comin' in now." No sooner had he spoken when three more Death Eaters streamed in and proceeded to blast away at them. They had no compunction against using the most dangerous curses, worst luck.

"Sirius, Mr. Moody, Terry--we got to make a run for it," Gerad said as they ducked behind Kailing's scaled flanks. Curses and spells splashed harmlessly off the black dragon's scaled skin, but they did seem to be irritating her a little. "Kai can't attack without bringing this place down around our ears and she *can't* breathe fire!"

The dragon roared and her tail lashed out, forcing the Death Eaters to back off. The reason for her attack became clear a moment later--the tail end of her great length now formed a natural barricade that stretched out to the nearest archway. They ran for it even as Caitlin and the others started their own offensive.

"We've got to make it quick--Cait and the rest haven't got enough power to hold them off for long," Gerad panted as they raced down the dark corridor that lead away from Voldemort's audience chamber. "It's something to do with being natural Animagi--some give and take involved in it, a friend told me . . ."

"All right," Sirius said as they came to a place where the corridor branched in three directions, "I'll take one, you take the middle one and Mad-Eye can take the last."

"I'll go with Sirius," Terry said easily when it came to his turn.

"Well, you've got to keep up." And they were off again, racing pell-mell into unknown danger again. 

A few twist and turns later, Sirius' grip on his wand was getting sweaty as they hunted about in the gloom for some place that looked promising. They passed several empty, dank chambers--Sirius was sure they were somewhere underground--and a chamber fill with what looked like some medieval enthusiast's collection of torture devices.

Slightly sickened, Sirius and Terence ran on. They reached another fork, but that was not all they found there.

The masked and hooded Death Eater had emerged from one of the two passageway and saw them just as they saw him. Wands flicked out and Sirius was engaged in another duel--he was certainly doing a lot of that these days.

"Terence--stay back!" he yelled as he deflected another spell. He hoped fervently that this Death Eater would be one of those greenhorns who couldn't do the Unforgivable Curses--they were too close now . . . He also hoped that Terence would have the sense to stay away from the magic that was whizzing through the air like Bludgers in a Quidditch match.

But the other man had slipped up almost beside the Death Eater without detection because of the Death Eater's pre-occupation with fielding Sirius' spells. He held out a small black device and there was a blinding flash of light--

When Sirius' vision had cleared enough for him to see properly, Terence had a hold of the Death Eater's wand arm and was twisting it behind his back until the other man let go with a cry. He then flipped the Death Eater over in a smooth fluid motion. The man landed on the ground with a heavy thump.

Sirius was there in the next instant, cords shooting out to bind and gag the Death Eater into silence. No killing, that was the cardinal rule . . . "That was brilliant," he said at last when they had caught their breath.

"Don't mind me saying, but you wizards are very easy to surprise," Terence said as he scooped something off the ground to show to Sirius. "This is just the flash attachment from one of my cameras."

"I'll remember that--next time you do that, tell me to close my eyes first, all right?" Sirius said with a rueful smile. Gerad was right, of course. Muggles did have a lot of things up their sleeves that wizards did not.

"All right--did you see which way he came from?"

"That way . . ." They looked at each other and shrugged before going down that particular passageway.

Before long, Sirius' sharp hearing picked up the faint sound of footsteps and he paused at a sort of T-shaped junction. Terence halted when he did and made a questioning gesture.

Motioning for Terry to be still, he raised his wand and waited for the figures to round the corner . . .

It was Severus Snape and Remus Lupin.

"Moony, you look like something the cat dragged in," Sirius said, relief washing over him in waves. On second examination of his friend, he knew a mounting rage. Not even the aftermath of each night with a full moon had prepared him for this.

"I noticed that . . ." And Remus staggered, more skeletal and pale than he had ever been. There were marks on him that told the whole horrifying tale of his captivity in this dreadful place.Snape practically shoved him over to Terry and Sirius, as though he could not stand touching him any longer. Sirius felt a hot flash of anger--the slimy bastard had probably inflicted some of those marks . . . 

"You have to make it look real," Snape said, interrupting his dark musings by shoving Lupin's wand into his hand. He then drew the black mask of the Death Eaters over his face. "Hit me or stun me." 

Sirius would have been the first to admit later that his temper had got the better of him after seeing Remus in that state. When he swung, it was *not* with feigned enthusiasm. Connecting with Snape's face, he was ashamed to realise, was one of the most satisfying things that he had experienced in a very long time.

Snape reeled backwards with the force of the blow. Sirius wondered if he had broken that over-large nose . . .

"Sirius . . . just stun him--we have to get out of here," Remus muttered from where Terry was supporting him. Sirius noted his friend's ashy-grey complexion and stunned the other wizard quickly.

"Come on--we don't have much time," Terry muttered.

Half-dragging and half-carrying Remus, they managed to get to the end of the passageway before meeting Gerad Connelly running in. Sirius halted his spell in time to avoid frying Gerad's eyebrows.

"Gerad?" Remus blinked wearily. "Oh . . . what *is* that racket?"

"Kailing . . . but she can't keep it up for long--she's good for a few minutes more before they realise that she's not so mobile on land . . . Even more Death Eaters are apparating in now and we'd all like to miss the chance of meeting Voldemort here!"

That was a thought that Sirius did not share, but there was Remus to think about now. Revenge could come later . . .

"Lead on!"

The quartet made it back to the grotesque audience chamber after nearly colliding with Mad-Eye along the way--the old Auror looking like the confident hunter again. They could not have been away for more than ten minutes, but it looked like the Death Eaters, because of their swelling numbers, were steadily advancing on the beleaguered group behind the sea dragon.

"Gerad! Hurry!" Edward shouted when he spotted them at the archway. Unfortunately, the Death Eaters had also spotted them. When Kailing tried to reach them with her tail again, she was blocked by Repelling Spells. Being non-offensive magic, it was not neutralised by her magic-proof hide.

"Oh hell," Gerad swore as some Death Eaters started to point their wands their way.

"Bugger this!" Moody roared and let fly with Stunning Spell that swept out in a great red arc, felling the closest Death Eaters like grass before a sharp scythe. "I'll show you magic you filthy scum!" And he was racing out with his wand spitting magic so fast it looked like a firework gone berserk.

The other three men looked at each other over Lupin's drooping one and followed in the wake of Mad-Eye's charge, wands at the ready. With Moody in front, Gerad and Sirius on one side and Terence supporting Lupin on the other side of their wedge formation, they ran over the intervening distance in the precious seconds bought by Mad-Eye's ferocious offensive. Seeing the end of this battle in sight, the three wizards behind the dragon redoubled their efforts to give them cover.

When they were only twenty feet away, the dragon flung herself forwards to envelope them in her coils. "We're leaving--*now*!" Sirus bellowed as everyone packed together as closely as they could. He activated the Portkey and the last spells flashed through the place where they had been.

Moments later, they were in the woods again.

"We made it!"

"Don't start celebrating so soon," Mad-Eye warned. "They've got Portkeys that come here too!"

"To Hogwarts--it's safe there," Sirius said at once. "We'll apparate to Hogsmeade first."

"Right--give us a second. Kai's get to change back first unless you want to restart legends of the Loch Ness Monster around those parts," Gerad said, eyeing the shrinking dragon anxiously. The woman got to her feet unsteadily a moment later.

"I itch *all over*," she complained tiredly as Dimitri slung her jacket over her shoulders.

"Yeah, but you're still up for apparating? Good," Gerad said with a firmness that made it plain that he had been the leader of this motley crew before. "I'll apparate with Terry. Sirius, you can handle Remus?"

"Of course. We better move on . . .to Hogsmeade." And the witches and wizards started popping out of sight.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

When he finally came to, Snape saw only blackness. The smell of his own sweat told him that he had his mask on. The next thing he knew was the sound of Voldemort in a vile temper--he knew it by the sound of screams echoing around him mingled with a hissing, high-pitched voice.

Did he dare stir? _No . . . wait and see . . ._

" . . . I leave for a few days and intruders have managed to penetrate my lair--my *stronghold*--and rescue the werewolf! And my Death Eaters, my *faithful* Death Eaters did not get here until moments before they escaped!" Voldemort was ranting somewhere in the vicinity. There was another scream.

"Master! Mercy!" It was not just one voice that was begging. "Please, lord--they came with a great dragon--" Another scream of agony. Snape felt himself sweat. This was not going to be pleasant.

"Excuses, excuses! Worthless scum! A ragtag handful of wizards desecrates my lair and not one of you gives chase?"

"Master--they were too fast! We did follow them to Romania via Portkey, but they had apparated away afterwards!" That was Pettigrew. "Have mercy--"

Growing more and more jittery, Snape was aware of dried blood encrusting his nose. Black had hit him very hard--his nose felt broken. But he could not lie here plotting to get back at Black for that. Time to face the music . . . however unpleasant it was.

Slowly, he shifted and pulled the mask off his face, blinking in the light of the magical torches that lined Voldemort's audience chamber. Someone had dragged him here--they had been none to gentle about it . . . Snape would remember that.

A pair of red, glowing eyes bore into him from somewhere above his head and he did not have to pretend to scramble to abase himself at Voldemort's feet in fear.

"Master, I have failed," he said quickly, wincing as speech stretched the skin on his face and his broken nose as well. "Punish me as you see fit--"

Not that Voldemort needed any motivation to do so. He was ready for the pain though and choked back the scream that was welling up in his throat.

"You were here, Severus?" Voldemort asked as the tremors faded away. "You were present here at that time, were you not?"

"Master . . . I was here. I knew Black would attempt to rescue his friend, so I made for the werewolf's cell as quickly as I could--but they overpowered me . . ." Snape licked his lips nervously. "There were three of them," he added, eyes on the floor. _Let this be over quickly . . ._

No pain came though.

"Hmmm . . . It appears that you were the only senior Death Eater attempting to use your brain in this crisis," Voldemort said. "Get up, Severus . . ."

Snape did so, keeping his eyes on the floor. Voldemort was as capricious as the weather when it came to dishing out punishments or rewards.

Voldemort studied him a moment more. "Sirius Black . . . You recognised him?"

"Yes, master," Snape said daring to raise his head.

"Ah--Black did that?"

"Yes, lord."

"He is still too soft-hearted to kill . . ." Voldemort waved his wand negligently and Snape knew a moment's agony as his nose realigned itself with a painful wrench. "They did not see your face?"

"No, master . . ." Snape lied and reached for his nose gingerly. It was no longer broken. "Thank you master . . ."

"I will expect more from you in the future . . . Now return and tell Dumbledore that he might have won this battle, but not the war," Voldemort snapped.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

It was an extremely wearily group of people who entered the safe haven of Hogwarts that morning. They had barely reached the back gate when it flew open to reveal a very relieved looking Professor McGonagall.

"You made it back--the headmaster will be wanting to see you . . ." She trailed off as she took in the strangers in their midst.

"It's all right, ma'am--we'd best be getting along," Gerad said.

"Oh no, you're coming with us," Sirius insisted. "Besides, I think Dumbledore would like to see you very much."

"Lupin's going to need some medical aid," Terry said.

"Lupin? Moony--we're at Hogwarts," Sirius said to his semi-conscious friend. "It's going to be all right . . . we'll get you fixed up in no time."

"Thanks . . ." Lupin muttered and sagged. There were tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes as he surrendered to unconsciousness at last. Tears of relief for surviving this ordeal.

Depositing Lupin in the capable hands of Madam Pomfrey, they trudged up to Dumbledore's office. He was waiting for them.

"Ah, you have bearded the lion--or should I say snake--in his own den," the old wizard said. He looked like his normal cheerful self, but he looked slightly worn out. Sirius wondered if the headmaster had been up trying to curb Voldemort's activities elsewhere. It made him face the ugly truth of their current situation. One battle they had won, he realised tiredly, but there would be other battles on other days and other places too.

"And Gerad, you've brought your friends too," Dumbledore continued. "You've got to be careful, Gerad--remember the last time . . ."

"I will, sir. Will you require a report?"

"No, save it for later. You all look like you need some rest. You *should* go rest--unless there's anything pressing you need to tell me. Did anyone suffer any adverse curses?"

"None . . . Unless one of us didn't come back from Voldemort's lair . . ." Moody was suddenly on the alert, his magic eye swinging about vigorously. He had reason to be paranoid . . .

"I do not doubt any of your identities," Dumbledore said calmly and pointed to the mirror that hung over his fireplace. "If you were someone else in disguise, no matter how clever, that bewitched mirror would have revealed you to me long ago. I *did* take precautions after that business with Crouch."

"We would have to get up earlier if we want to put one over you, sir," Gerad said respectfully.

"I would think we shouldn't even sleep," Caitlin said with a grin.

"Speaking of sleep, I see a number of people in serious need of it. Off you go--and don't you dare wake up before lunch time," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye.

Sirius hardly remembered falling asleep. But when he woke up, he felt strangely safe in knowing that he was in Hogwarts, surrounded by friends and watched over by the only wizard Voldemort feared. He would have been content to lie like that all day, but he had things to see to. Stretching, he got up and threw on his clothes before going to look up Remus.

"Remus! You're up already?" he exclaimed when he walked in to find his old friend sitting up in the infirmary.

"Hullo Sirius," Lupin said wanly. His hands were bandaged and it looked like he had been made to swallow a lot of potions from the look of the bottles on the bedside tray. "I can't move an inch or else Madam Pomfrey said she was going to finish the job they only got halfway done," he said with a rueful smile.

"They won't get away with that, Moony," Sirius said grimly. "Someday, they'll get theirs . . ."

"Promise me you won't go out hunting them alone," Lupin said seriously.

"All right . . . I promise I'll take someone else along for the ride and tell someone in authority first," Sirius said, still incorrigible as ever. "Are you feeling quite all right? Because if you are, I'm dead curious about how you ever got to know Gerad's bunch."

"Now that *is* a long story," Lupin said. "Have you ever heard of W.E.R.E.S.? There was some fuss over it a few years back . . ."

"Moony, I haven't been exactly well informed for the last thirteen years, you know," Sirius said patiently. There was a whole chunk of his friend's life that he had not been privy to.

"Sorry . . . Gerad started W.E.R.E.S. after the Department for Werewolves/other Sub-human Species shut down. It was all right for a while, but it got closed down by the Ministry for being 'too radical'."

"You were one of them?" Sirius asked.

"Not exactly . . . I was something of a fringe-member if you must know."

"What did they do? Oh wait--I'll guess . . . Something to do with werewolves?"

Lupin nodded. "You know what the Ministry said about them?"

"Er, was that the 'enthusiastic but misguided' bit?"

"Right--Gerad was for the rights of were-creatures--"

"Why?" Sirius wanted to know.

"That's for Gerad to tell, not me," Lupin said firmly. "I can't tell you everything about them, old friend . . . And there are some things that cannot go beyond this room . . ."

"We were always good at keeping secrets, Mr. Moony."

"Mr. Padfoot speaks the truth," Lupin said with a slightly smile. "By now, you should know why Gerad and company have to be watched. You were lucky, if they were on your side . . ."

* * * * * * * * * * * *

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This is for Quaxo and anyone who gave feedback for "Sacrifice". (Seriously, I never got *this* much feedback for any fic before, so I'm pathetically grateful any anything, even flames.)

The author decides that fanfics are much more fun than studying nematodes and sorting through tanks of Blattella germanica (L.) _by hand: I had to end it there. The next part after this will be "The Reckoning" which should tie up a few things and answer a few questions--as soon as I type it out, that is . . . Even more POVs from other characters as this fic goes on and more of W.E.R.E.S. (The gang from W.E.R.E.S. were from a Lupin-fic I've got cooking on the backburner.) Erm, please write a review/give me some constructive criticism?_

Disclaimer: HP characters are © J. K. Rowling and respective publishers except for those created to move the plot along.

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